


Salvation

by MrsHamill



Series: Penitence [7]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-10
Updated: 2001-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:20:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim feels he's finally done talking -- for now. This story is a sequel to Redemption.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> It has a name! Penitence. Of course, this is the LAST story of THIS series... Thanks, Fox, as usual, I couldn't have done it without you.

* * *

No, two weeks was fine by me. You _know_ how unpredictable my job can get, anyway... 

Ahhh... yeah. Things _have_ really improved, haven't they? At least Sandburg says they have. 

Well... he's nearly done. Friday's his last day. I've already told him I'm taking him out to dinner that night, but what he doesn't know is that the whole crew from work is gonna be there, and Simon's going to present him with his gun and shield then too. I wanted a formal -- you know, a public -- presentation, like the rest of us had, but Simon \-- well, he pointed out that the press would be all _over_ that particular ceremony. And he's right. So low-key is probably the way to go here. 

Yup. Monday. 

You know, I know I don't think I've ever talked with anyone so much in my life -- which probably explains why I'm divorced! But it's easy with Blair. And, you know, thinking about it, I realize it's always been pretty easy. For a motormouth he's a pretty good listener. And now that I've gotten into the habit of actually _talking_... well. It's even easier. 

Well, yeah, basically we've come clean with each other. I mean, there were precious few secrets between us before, but now, well there's practically none. My best friend has become even closer, and, well... heh. I actually find that I... kind of like it. Get this: he went out on a date last weekend, a new girl. He actually came home -- came home early, even \-- and we talked about how the date went. He didn't want to see her because he felt she was on the rebound. And he asked me for advice! That was a first. 

Yeah, well, I've already warned him about a cop's social life, which is pretty much non-existent. He keeps cracking wise about how he's gonna end up like me, but with more hair -- a grouchy old bear in a cave. Emphasis on the grouchy. But he told me that night that it didn't bother him if he doesn't go out much. He said... well, he said just being at home, with me, was usually good enough for him. 

Him going on a date? Why... I mean, why would that have bothered me? 

Naw. 

Ah... um. I don't know. But that's speculation anyway, since as far as I know, he only dates women now. 

Doc... I don't know. I really don't. It kinda gives me a funny feeling. 

A little bit -- sorta -- well, we're both kind of shy about it. I think our mutual agreement is that if it happens, well, it happens, and we'll deal with it then. But we'll always be as honest with each other as possible. I know he could meet the woman of his dreams someday and want to hare off and get married, have two-point-five kids, et cetera., and who knows, I may find someone someday too. But if it doesn't happen, well, it doesn't. 

Well, you know, not really. It's really funny. When I think of my old age, all I can picture is... Sandburg. Me and Sandburg. Knowing us, we'll probably be a couple of old farts in the nursing home organizing wheelchair drag racing... Heh. Probably something even less savory, if I know him. 

I--I think about it. Uh... sometimes, uh, um, you know, when I have a date with my right hand... you know? Sometimes... well, shit. Sometimes... 

Yeah. 

No! That's, um, kind of personal. You know? I wouldn't be telling a woman that I fantasized about her while... um... you know... so I wouldn't tell Blair. But sometimes I do. 

One word? Just one? Geesh. 

Let me think for a minute. 

Comfortable. 

Yeah. That fits. We're like a pair of old sweats, or beat-up tennis shoes. We don't have to have any pretensions around each other. All my lumps match up to dips on him and vice versa. You know what I mean? Our life together is... comfortable. 

I hope so. I mean, him becoming my official partner really isn't that much different than what it was before. Couple weeks ago -- that Saturday it was so nice just before it snowed? -- we blew the day and went fishing. Up to Lake Chakauta. 

Oh, yeah, it sure is. Too early to catch anything, of course, but that's not why we went. We practiced our fly-casting -- Sandburg swore he hooked a trout but it was probably just a stupid catfish -- and we... well, we talked. I told him what to expect when he becomes a cop. I told him how worried I was for him, that he'd -- he'd buckle under the pressure of how awful the job can be. And you know what? He told me how scared he was. 

That was a surprise. Sandburg, scared? Ha. He's the bravest guy I know. But he said he was scared -- and get this -- not about the job, but about _letting me down_. 

Heh, I just smacked him upside the head and told him not to be stupid. That he's already my partner, has been for years, and he hasn't let me down once. I told him he's the bravest, smartest guy I knew, and if he couldn't do the job, then no one could. And that the only thing I was worried about was losing him. 

Oh, well, that's when he swore he'd hooked something. Had to have been a catfish, or maybe a snag. 

He's been a -- an incredible help out at the station. He's probably helped every unit at one point or another, I think... he's got this breadth of knowledge that just, I mean, it's staggering. Plus, most everybody knows he's a good sort, one of those you can go to cry on his shoulder. The women, anyway, heh. 

Oh, you mean... Geeze. That started right from the beginning. You know, being able to hear stuff is not necessarily good. I heard all the cracks -- "How come Ellison's allowed to bring his little back-door buddy to work?" and "He must give good something for Ellison to keep him around" -- but they never really bothered me. You hear all sorts of crap like that at a police station. I don't care how many PC courses or sensitivity seminars you give, it's just going to happen. 

Naw. Not really. I asked Blair once if it bothered him any, and he said he'd gotten used to it. Said that the way he looks, people just assume. Whether or not it's true. It's a crying shame the way some people just... 

Heh. Enlightened, huh? Well. I wouldn't know about _that_ , it's just the way I feel. The one thing that burns my butt more than anything is some bigot in my face telling me all about his prejudices. I may not be as smart as Sandburg, but I know when someone's blowing smoke up their ass. 

Well... I don't know. Yeah, I mean, I have a bachelor's degree, had to, to get my commission. I started night courses years ago to get my master's in criminal justice. Never finished it for some reason. But, you see, Sandburg just leaves me -- and everyone else -- in the dust. And... and... well, damn. I kinda get a kick out of hearing some of the shit that comes out of his mouth. Even if I already know it. 

Yeah, I should. I'll ask Sandburg what he thinks. 

Has it been that long? Wow. 

Well... I guess. I know I've come a long way. I feel a lot less angry now, and that really feels good too. I guess that could be because I got all this crap off my chest, or it may be because... I... just opened up to Sandburg. Whatever. 

Oh, well, yeah! The damn dreams have stopped. That's a lovely little side-benefit! 

Huh. Yeah. That's right. I clean forgot about that. So I guess everything was linked, wasn't it? My mood to the dreams and back again. 

Nope, not a one. Well, not a _bad_ one, anyway. 

Ahhhh... yeah. A few. 

Naw. Although I sometimes feel like a teenager again. And considering the fact that not only does Sandburg _look_ like a teenager, he _acts_ like one... 

...What? Not my _feelings_ again? Heh. 

Oh. Wow. I didn't think you shrinks were even _allowed_ to say something like that! 

Hmmm. Well, maybe. Yeah. It's... I mean... you've really helped, doc. You really have. I feel a lot better now. Heh. I'm sure Sandburg does too! 

Okay, that seems fair. I'll just call then... and, well... you know, I told you that regs say we have to go for counseling if we shoot somebody? Could I... I mean... 

Good. Thanks. 

Okay. Yeah, you're right, too. Sometimes we get too... I dunno. Close to it? And you know, I might tell Sandburg to come see you too if he wants. Oh, I mean, if that's okay... 

Oh, yeah, I guess you're right. 

Yeah! You know -- well, maybe you don't -- I do trust you. I don't think I could have talked to anyone... I mean, especially about the senses thing... that I didn't trust. 

Huh. Yeah. The way I trust Blair. So, in a way, all of this is... 

Sandburg's fault. All of it. Laid squarely on those broad, furry shoulders. 

Thank God. 

end


End file.
